Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Not That I Mean to Bitch but...

I like to let the major things in life wash over me, carrying me along on the surface and then turf me out at the next available shore; much like the migratory pattern of the disowned condom, found on Blackpool beach. But the small things, the insignificant annoyances of daily existance make me want to puncture my veins with a biro.

Having to ring the Post Office customer service helplineI spent twenty minutes being passed from on automated lady to the next and being reminded I could track my mail online. I was so excited when I did finally connect to a human that I shrieked a little bit and they hung up on me.

The DVD of In America being impossible to buy on the high streetIn America is one of those films that I SWEAR was always hanging around in places like Woolworths and Morrisons for about £2.99. When I finally decide I wanna watch it no fucker has it. Even the large Virgin store in town didn't have it and they have films like Death Munch 12. I braved scally ASDA as my determination mounted. The woman on the till was busy chatting to her colleague about Ryan on bread who was shagging Dawn from meat and was not pleased when I interupted to ask if they had the film. She immediately snapped "No". Bitch. You're surounded by thousands of DVDs - how do you know?

Having to ring the BT HelplineAs above. Kill me. Please come over from India and kill me. And this was work related. Vishnu help anyone who actually needs your help with their personal phone line.

The DentistI don't particularly like him and he always unnerves me when I enter the room and he asks me what I'm there for. But on Monday he broke his drill in my mouth...and then laughed about it.

One of my bosses, correction, line managers, returning from her holidayThis is a long one but just know she is the most aggravating person currently in my life and I didn't even invite her in. Today she spent an hour telling me how unsecure my job is and how I'm probably not viewed as a valuable employee by higher management...not that she thinks that of course but she feels obliged to relay these things to me because she really sees me as a friend.

4 comments:

The dentist broke his drill in your mouth and laughed...? You must be traumatised. I am surprised that this event, in conjunction with having to spend any time on the phone to helplines, let alone two different sets, has not tipped you completely over the edge!

The dentist drill story is my worst nightmare, that must have been awful. If someone on the telephone annoys my friend at work she sends a blank fax to their voice line. It redials every five minutes for an hour and is so so satisfying.

I revert back to my original analysis of us, which is that we are the same person. Although I haven't had a drill broken on me. Did he crack any jokes about you having a hard head? I probably would have had I been in his shoes.